I’ve been cleared to leave by one of the helper-medics (Lorians, I remember now), who announced that the surgery was a success and warned me to keep the injection site dry until tomorrow. I give my shoulder a test, rolling the joint. It feels surprisingly good. My head does, too. For all her eccentricities, Illiviamona knows what she’s doing.
I rummage through the sack for my handheld and thumb through the preinstalled contact list, which mainly includes the members of the Sixth. I’d like to ask someone to bring me clothes so I don’t have to find my way back to Detachment 94 in a hospital gown, but who should I call? Lament’s name appears first, but thinking about him right now is like prodding an open wound—I want nowhere near it. Jester’s info comes up second, then Vera’s, and even though this situation is basically her fault, I hesitate. I haven’t known either of them that long. Hell, has it even been twenty-fourhours? Surely we haven’t yet crossed the socially acceptable time threshold for calling in favors. Also, it’s barely five in the morning on Skyhub. If they’d planned to check on me, they would have done it already.
I let the handheld rest on my thigh, scrolling listlessly through the contacts as if expecting a better option. The longer I stall, the worse my uncertainty grows, building and building until it finally crests in a wave of confused exhaustion. I’mexhausted. I’ve been moving forward because I’ve had no choice but to move forward, but here—sitting alone in this sterile hospital room—it’s like the space once occupied by action has vanished, leaving an opening for overload to finally flood in. I’ve been sleep- deprived, attacked by monsters, stranded on a no-man’s-planet, buried under a pile of sand. I’ve just undergone the oddest surgery of my life, and I’m probably also suffering a bit of space lag, which is what happens when you travel too far across the galaxy too quickly. My mouth tastes like ash and my clothes are in a bag and I’m not even wearing shoes, which is a detail that was previously insignificant but suddenly seems insurmountable.
I set my handheld face down without calling anyone.
I cradle my head in my hands and stare at my knees.
I’m not sure how long I sit there. Ten minutes? Thirty? My exhaustion comes in waves, rising like the tide, reaching higher and higher with each pass. I consider lying back on the bed and just closing my eyes, putting it all off for later. I could sleep so easily right now. I want to. That’s something everyone should experience at least once in their life, right? Easy sleep.
I’m just about to give in to this idea when Illiviamona pokes her head around the doorframe. “You are still here.” Her starlight freckles shimmer in agitated waves. “I discharged you. It is time for you to return to the detachment.”
I wince. Of course I can’t just stay here. They probably need this room for the next patient. I start to apologize before realizing I don’t know the way back to our unit. “Is there, um, a map or something?” I rub my neck. “I’m not exactly familiar with Skyhub’s layout yet.”
“You do not need a map.” Illiviamona tips her head knowingly. “Not when there are friends.”
I don’t even try to parse this bit of Lorian wisdom. Maybe the front desk can help me. “Good point.”
“Friends are the stars that guide us.”
I nod gravely. “Too true.”
“And we must always lean on them.”
“Couldn’t have said it better—”
“Keller.”
Vera appears around the corner in a blur of black hair and squeaking shoes. She throws her arms around my neck, nearly toppling us both, then pulls away abruptly. “Oh stars, your shoulder. Did I hurt your shoulder?”
I’m so stunned by her appearance it takes me a second to answer. “No. No, Illiviamona fixed me. It doesn’t hurt.”
Jester moves through the doorway, wearing a faint smile as he hoists a duffel bag.Need some clothes?
Relief hits my system at the same time I realize… they came. They didn’t forget about me, didn’t leave me to figure this out on my own. I have to fight the sudden prickling behind my eyes. “Jester,” I rasp. “You are the Father of Stars himself.”
“Oh, Keller.” There are tears clinging to Vera’s lashes. “I am so,sosorry. I never should have flown off without you. I thought I was helping you and Lament bond, you know? Like in that movie where the man and woman get stuck on a runaway train and hate each other at first but end up coming together to save the day?”
“Are you talking aboutThe Starless Night?”
“Yes!”
“Vera.” I give a small cough. “That’s a romance film.”
“Exactly. You two were supposed to discover you’re actually more alike than you thought, and Lament would surprise you with how competent he is, and you’d put aside your differences to fly home together, but insteadyour spacecraft spontaneously failed and your radio died and then you just…” She motions helplessly at my bandaged shoulder.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“You tore your labia.”
I let out a strangled laugh. Jester lifts his visor to roll his eyes, then drops it back down to say,You mean labrum, Vera.
“Whatever! You’ve been hurt. And we heard all about the sand cephalopod.”
Only now does it occur to me. “Wait, how—?”
“Lament told us everything. He’s been absolutelybesidehimself—”
